


Pacific Cooler

by misato



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Sobriety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 06:32:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11708802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misato/pseuds/misato
Summary: He raises his Capri Sun in the air and they bump the juice pouches together in a mock-toast.“To sobriety,” Joseph says.





	Pacific Cooler

Robert’s standing in the middle of Joseph’s kitchen, looking a little awkward amongst the typical suburban home decor. He can’t remember the last time his own house has been this sparkling clean. 

Joseph had just asked him over after one of Mary’s alcoholic support group meetings, the ones held at the church on Tuesday nights. They’re sort of pathetic, but Robert goes because it’s proof to himself that he’s at least  _ trying _ , y’know? Still, Mary had offered to buy him a drink as soon as the meeting was over. He’d almost agreed, but Joseph had laughed it off and had lured Robert over to his house instead with the promise of coffee cake. Robert likes coffee cake. Not as much as whiskey, but it’s a close second.

One of the twins dashes into the kitchen and runs up to Joseph, wrapping her skinny arms around his leg. Joseph ruffles the little girl’s hair and tells her to brush her teeth and put on her pajamas before bed.

He’s a good dad, Robert notes. Make that one more thing they don’t have in common.

“You want anything to drink?” Joseph asks, taking a boxed coffee cake out of the refrigerator. 

“You joking?” Robert asks warily.

“Oh!” Joseph exclaims apologetically, frantically searching for words. “I mean, uh, like milk, or juice, or something.”

Robert laughs.

“You’re adorable, Christiansen.”

Joseph blushes and doesn’t say anything. Robert sighs.

“Do you have any of those Capri Sun juice pouches?” 

Joseph bustles towards the pantry and pulls out a box.

“Pacific Cooler,” he reads, and looks up at Robert hopefully.

“That’s fine,” Robert says, and Joseph’s face lights up.

God, the man really is adorable. Eyes like a lost puppy, fluffy blonde hair, a dazzling smile.

Joseph takes out two juice pouches and pops the straws in.

He raises his Capri Sun in the air and they bump the juice pouches together in a mock-toast.

“To sobriety,” Joseph says, winking, even though Robert has definitely seen him drinking a margarita or four at Jim and Kim’s more than once.

“To sobriety,” Robert agrees.

He considers making a joke about starting an alcoholic juice pouch business, but he figures the timing isn’t right.

Joseph smiles.

“I gotta put the kids to bed,” he says, and leaves Robert to fidget and stares at the kitchen walls.   
He finishes his Pacific Cooler in about thirty seconds and takes the liberty of grabbing a second one. 

While he waits for Joseph to return, he looks at a series of family photos hanging on the wall. In the majority of them, the kids look awkward but cute, gripping various stuffed animals and wearing argyle prints. Joseph looks strained, Mary looks dreary. His eyes drift to one particular photo that was obviously taken around Christmas, perhaps years ago. Mary is smiling softly, dressed in a Santa themed dress that falls well below her knees (Robert’s seen her wear much less on your average Friday night, but he supposes Jesus’s birthday should be treated with respect.) Joseph has on reindeer antlers that shouldn’t be that cute (but, God, they really are). The most striking thing is that Chris and the twins look happier than he’s ever seen them. They were a perfect family. Robert tries to forget the condom in his pocket.

“I’m back,” Joseph says gently, and Robert startles. “Sorry if I took a while, Christie’s nightlight was busted. Had to sing her to sleep”

“‘S fine,” Robert says, shaking his head, trying not to imagine Joseph singing lullabies.

Joseph slices the coffee cake and puts two generous slices onto two flowery little plates. Robert hasn’t used anything but plastic utensils for months, but he takes the metal fork that Joseph hands him.

“Wanna go out back?” Joseph says, and Robert nods tentatively.

They step onto the back porch. It’s a nice porch, big and painted white, with a little table that has an umbrella. Cute, Robert decides. Mary probably smokes out here.

He stares at the picket fence and the little swingset, and then-

“Is that a treehouse?” Robert asks around a mouthful of coffee cake.

Joseph nods.

“Yeah. I built it a while back for Chris, but he was never really interested in playing outside with other kids in the neighborhood.”

“That’s a shame,” Robert says. “It’s a nice treehouse.”

He sets his empty plate on the table and heads out into the grass.

“Hey, don’t-” Joseph says, but Robert’s already climbing the ladder.

Robert hears Joseph laugh, and then he’s following him up the ladder into the treehouse.

The roof is peaked like a castle’s tower, but it’s not tall enough for them to stand, so instead they sit cross-legged on the wooden floor. The two of them stare at each other before bursting into laughter. Joseph has a nice laugh, Robert notes. He’d like to hear that laugh on a daily basis if possible. The guy’s too damn sad half the time.

They stare back at the house, glinting as the sun sets. The wind rustles in the trees as their laughter fades into nothing.

Robert, for the first time in a long time, feels clean. The air smells damp and fresh and he can taste it. He hasn’t had a cigarette in three weeks and a drink in two and a half. The nicotine gum in his wallet is a safety net. The condom in his pocket is a secret hope, saved like a dandelion puff wish for later. His mind feels clear, empty, peaceful.  _ It’s probably only temporary _ , he thinks,  _ but maybe this is what happiness feels like _ . 

“You okay?” Joseph says, and Robert turns his head to look at him.

“Never been better,” he says, and for once, he sort of kind of means it. 

Joseph smiles, and Robert stares at his mouth. He hasn’t kissed anyone sober in a long time. 

He closes his eyes, swallows, remembers who gave him the condom in the first place. At the alcoholic support group. Right before they left for coffee cake. She’d pulled him aside.

_ “C’mon,” _ she’d said, pressing the little packet into his hand. _ “Fuck my husband. I know you want to get laid, I know he needs to get laid, and Lord knows I’m not going to do anything about it.” _

He opens his eyes again. They’ve gotten closer in the small space of the treehouse, their gazes meeting carefully in the dim light. Their lips are mere inches apart.

“Do you want to…?” Joseph trails off.

Maybe he’s too pure to say “fuck.” Or maybe he’s just scared.”

Joseph’s pretty mouth gets closer, and Robert dodges the kiss.

“Have you told the kids?” Robert makes himself say, and he can feel Joseph’s eyes trained on his lips.

It’s painful to not kiss him right then and there.

“About the divorce?” Joseph asks.

Robert nods.

“Not yet,” Joseph says, and Robert pulls away. “But-”

“Tell them,” he says. “I’ll be waiting.”

He climbs out of the treehouse wordlessly, making his way down the ladder. Joseph watches him walk across the wet grass, his silhouette illuminated by the porch light.

Joseph sighs. 

-

A month later, the weather is turning cooler, and Joseph turns up at Robert’s house with a plate of double chocolate brownies, wearing an argyle sweater vest and looking downright adorable. They’ve only seen each other in passing since the night in the treehouse.

“Hey,” Robert says, taking the plate. “Why the baked goods?”

“We need to talk.”

And  _ oh _ , Robert would much rather be doing so many more things besides talking, but he invites him inside anyway.

Joseph sits down on the couch and Robert sets the plate of brownies down on the coffee table and takes off the plastic wrap.

“Let me guess,” Robert says, biting into a brownie. “You finally told the kids.”

“No,” Joseph says. “Well, yes. I did, two weeks ago. Mary moved out. We have a separation agreement now. You know that, I’m sure. But that’s not what I came here for.”

“Then what is it?”

“Since Mary’s no longer connected to the church, I’d like to ask for your help,” Joseph says, and then meets Robert’s eyes. “I want you to run the alcoholic support group.”

Robert nearly chokes on his brownie.

“You want me to  _ what _ ?”

“I think you’re a great guy, Robert. I think you have a way of connecting with people, and this job would be a perfect fit for you.”

“Are you sure?” Robert says, and he sort of feels like he’s going to cry. “Are you really sure?”

“Of course,” Joseph says.

Robert pulls him into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into Joseph’s hair. “Thank you.”

-

After Robert leads the first meeting, Joseph pulls him into a back room of the church and kisses him senseless.

“Do you have a kink for church group leaders or something?” Robert says, breathless.

“Well, no,” Joseph says, flushing. “But Mary has the kids tonight.”

“Oh,” Robert says, and then, “ _ Oh _ .”

The drive back to Joseph’s house is painfully long, and Robert watches Joseph’s fingers turn white as he clenches the steering wheel, turning into the cul-de-sac.

Joseph unlocks the door and they stumble to the bedroom.

Joseph cups Robert’s face in his hands, kissing him softly.

“You’re okay, right?” he breathes, toying with Robert’s belt buckle.

“I’m good,” Robert says. 

And he is.

Joseph pushes him to the bed and undresses him, kissing him everywhere until all Robert can feel is warmth and pleasure and Joseph’s mouth on his neck, on his thigh, on his... _ oh _ .

Joseph loves him tenderly, taking him in gently and kissing and sucking at the head of his cock like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Robert comes fast, so fast that it’s embarrassing, but Joseph just swallows his release eagerly, a little bit of white dripping over his chin. He wipes it off with his fingers and licks them clean.

Robert shudders. 

_ “Let me,”  _ he wants to say, but the words die in his throat when he sees the wet patch on the front of Joseph’s boxer briefs.

“You already…?” he makes himself ask, and Joseph nods.

“There’s time for more later,” he says, kissing Robert’s forehead, and then he wanders out of the room.

Robert figures he’s going to take a shower, so he curls up against the pillow.

It’s only when Joseph shakes his shoulder that he opens his eyes to see a Capri Sun juice pouch with the straw popped in it.

“Take it,” Joseph says, grinning, and Robert does.

As they snuggle together beneath the soft white sheets, their arms wrapped around one another, Robert decides that Pacific Cooler tastes better than whiskey ever could.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and nice comments are appreciated :D
> 
> my tumblr is dreamygothdad.


End file.
